Well.....so? SO???? I can't count, so what? Ya wanna make sompn out of it???

I feel so foolish....... 900 posts premature. Ain't never BEEN anyone so premature as that before!! Talk about DYSfunctional!! That is SO dysfunctional if it were anymore dysfunctional it wouldn't even exist in ordinary space-time!!

Amos' flight of fancy caused him to overshoot his ability to count. It has happened before, and will surely happen again. When he shouted. . .er. . . gesticulated. . . errr. . . articulated. . . errrr. . . ejaculated prematurely that he had reached 6000, we knew and we pitied him. We don't pity him most of the time, mostly we're amused and intrigued, but this time, well, it was just so obvious. . .

just popping in to complain - because a few years ago I found se3veral older variants of the twelve days of christmas - filled with things like "boars a ranting" and "Bears a-baiting" - and I can't find any of them now!

Yeah, BillD said his van is not dependable enough to do a Florida trip. And he's wanting live oak which I don't have any of. There's tons of it around, but not on my spread. I have laurel oak which is live oak's more erect cousin. They both stay green through the winter and drop their leaves in the early spring.

By the way, live oaks were once harvested extensively around here for use in making ribs for the hulls of sailing ships. The limbs grow with a natural curvature so they could be made into the desired rib shape with minimal hewing.

Because I have elected myself to be advisor of things that are unadvisable, or not advised, I do not advise that you talk about wood like it is some kind of second class citizen. I would like to advise you all that wood is not only a first class citizen of this world,but without it we would be in dire danger of not being able to have coffee tables.

BWL I have done a little Mudcat research on your behalf and dragged up from way down in my Personal Links the page for Mudcat Crafters and associated it with the BWL and Ivan thread. Who knows, maybe there will be a steady trickle of visitors rapping, rapping at your chamber door, crying "turkey oak, forever more."

So rustle up some Turkey Oak for ornamental use at the thanskgiving table. And think of all of those downed leaves and woodchips that you can use to make a special fragrant mix of Florida pot pourri for the holiday season!

Option #1: Open the package containing the MRE. Find the package containing M&Ms, Skittles or Tootsie Rolls. Eat the candy and throw the rest of the shit away.

Option #2: Open the package containing the MRE. Find the plastic pouches containing stuff that looks like it should be served hot. If you have access to a stove or microwave oven, throw the MRE crap away and cook something else. If you do not have access to a microwave oven, open the ingenious MRE cooking pouch, stuff whatever you want heated into the pouch (it is not recommended that you heat M&Ms, Skittles or Tootsie Rolls) and fill pouch with water. The water will activate the magic crystals in the cooking pouch which will produce HEAT! After about five minutes the contents of the pouch will be HOT! Remove the pouch. Open it and taste the contents using your olive drab MRE plastic eating spoon. Allow the contents to cool for about ten minutes. Feed contents to your cat or dog.

Option #3: Open the package containing the MRE. Find the plastic pouch containing stuff whose description includes the word "bread" or "cake". Imagine that you and your partner are Frodo and Sam on the way to Mount Doom and that the stuff is really Lembas. Taste the stuff and spit it out when you realize it tastes more like Orc bile.

Option #4: Open the package containing the MRE. Find the plastic pouch containing stuff that has the word "beverage" associated with it, as in "Cherry Flavored Beverage Base". Pour ten or twelve ounces of potable water into a cup. Throw the "beverage base" away and drink the water.

Option #5: If you are absolutely starving to death, McDonald's has been flattened by a tornado, the cats have run off in fear of becoming moo-goo-gai-pan, and you just can't find any earthworms, you may actually have to EAT the MRE. In that case, follow instructions in Option #2 above but DON'T feed it to the dog. Instead, find the small bottle of Tabasco sauce included in the little hermetically sealed pouch that also includes matches, salt, pepper and the chewing gum that sticks to your fillings. In fact, you've probably been saving the Tabasco from all the other MRE's you've been feeding to the cat or using for target practice, haven't you? We hope so. Anyway, pour at least one full bottle of Tabasco sauce on the contents of whatever kind of crap was in the pouches you heated up, stir, and eat the resulting mass using your olive drab MRE plastic eating spoon. The objective is to apply Tabasco sauce in sufficient strength that the Tabasco is ALL you can taste. If you are able to taste anything other than Tabasco, add more Tabasco.

WARNING: Do not, under any circumstances, eat anything found in any pouch contained in an MRE if that item has the word "cheese" associated with it in any way.

Speaking of such matters, the New Scientist has filed a report that conditions at Uranus are much more turbulent than anyone ever suspected. You may have some sort of explanation for this phenomenon, but they aren't sure.

We are very sorry to hear about the turbulence surrounding your anus. However, none of the currently participating MOABites possess sufficient expertise in matters of an anal nature to assist you with your difficulty. It is strongly suggested that you contact catspaw49 as he is definitely an expert in all things flatulent and fecal. If Spaw is not available, you may want to contact Martin Gibson. We are not sure that M.G. possesses much knowledge about assholes, but we are certain he is one so it would seem likely.

"Now I ain't scared a' grizzly bears," old Snuffy says one day, "'N wolverines 'n catamounts to me is pure child's play. Them trantulas and scorpions? I'll prance around 'em bold! But partner, them dang rattlesnakes, they make my blood run cold. I lariats my bed each night. My boots is tall bullhide. I don't like be in' on the ground, shoot yes! That's why I ride. Despite these nifty safety steps, I knows that I'll git bit. I cogitates on remedies to use if I git hit. My old Case knife is razor sharp to slash acrost each hole Where that bugger's fangs went, still, it chills me to the soul To plan self-mutilation, although it's necessary. 'N suckin' that there pizen out to me is awful scary. I reckon I could do it, if my life was on the line. 'Cause I 'member when that critter bit my hoss, sweet Adeline. Now that pony was a kicker of that there's paltry doubt. No man on earth could suck his leg to git the pizen out. So his eyes they glassied over 'n sweat jist drenched his hide. He shuddered, then he staggered, 'n I stood there as he died.' Sometimes I lays awake at night a-ponderin' on this. 'N I gits to speculatin' on this hypothesis: Say now, Sodie, jist fer instance, we're out hossback some day, 'N old Cookie's beans has grabbed me in a most emphatic way. Now I got no time to tarry, no sir! I'm in a rush. But propriety it dictates that I got to find some brush. Well, I gits there, but jist barely. There's no time to scout around. And say – in this brush's a viper all coiled up on the ground. Now I don't see him, but he sees me 'n he feels crowded some, So he calculates trajectory 'n bites me on the bum. So here I am all wounded but I knows what must be done, So fishin' out my sharp Case knife, I carves X's on my bun. But this I do by braille, you see, I'm operatin' blind, As I carves out love and kisses all over my behind. But I cain't suck the pizen out 'cause folks ain't built for that. Then I thinks about you, Sodie, 'n I yells 'n waves my hat. So you rides up, 'n I tells you the awful fix I'm in. I'm checkin' all my bets to you. Jist you can save my skin. My eyes is glazin' over now. My sun is sinkin' fast. I'm remorseful of my sin-filled life; regret my pintoed past. This nightmare here's well-water clear I pitcher in my mind. I'm dyin' there. The question is, now, Sodie, could you find It in yer heart to help a pal whose friendship is devout 'N save my life by suckin' all that rattler's pizen out? 'Cause the Cowboy Code, it tells the obligations of a friend. It says, I quote, 'A pal must be faithful to the end.'" Well, Sodie rolled and lit a smoke and said, "Yore right about The Cowboy Code, but it don't cover suckin' pizen out. That 'faithful to the end,' you quote I'd say is misdefined. It dang sure don't require of me to tend to yore behind. If you git bit, I'll fan yer face 'n help the time pass by. I'll speak soft words, but pardner, yore damn sure gonna die!"

This message doesn't bounce around. This message just sits on the ground. Its colors are not red or green, Just dull old black, a bit boring. No fonts larger or smaller than Whatever comes out of the can. No creepy letters dripping bile. No blinky words to make you smile. HTML it does eschew. You read it just the same, didn't you?

I, myself, always read what others have written. Good writing doesn't need gussying up, it doesn't need tricks and gimmicks to get its point across. Would Shakespeare be more if he had had his works flashing in lights? Would Pope or Cervantes, Twain or McGonagle, be greater if their works bounced around the page? No! These tricks, these trappings are used only to distract us from the Real Message of MOAB. Do not be fooled by these attractive wrappings, for inside the message is mere dust in the wind. Keep focused upon the Real Message of MOAB and let yourself be borne away by it to the realms of infinite glory. No, and no, and no! I say it again and again and again, do not be taken in by HTML tricks! Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what path others may take, but as for me, Give me....

I remember someone named Ima Dumbass posting to one of the Dr. Guitar threads. Are you related?

Of course, if you were related it would also mean that you are Chinese since it is the first names that match and Chinese folks put their surnames first. Obviously, Gittin' and Dumbass are not the same name, so you cannot be related unless you are Chinese, even though Ima Dumbass may be gittin' some and Ima Gittin' may be a dumbass, though I am in no way qualified to make that judgement and only mention it as a hypothetical possibility.

In fact, the only MOABite to whom the term Dumbass could be applied with absolutely no room for error or uncertainty is Tweed. Tweed's total lack of anything resembling mental acuity is a universally accepted fact throughout the entire realm of MOAB. And now that Tweed is not merely Tweed, but Tweed Who is Aslo khandu, the situation seems to be even worse. We had hoped that by combining Tweed's cashew-sized brain and khandu's acorn-sized brain a small glimmer of intelligence might somehow penetrate the dense fog known to occupy Tweed's cranial cavity. But, alas, in complete violation of common sense, the boy has actually gotten dumber since becoming the King of Mizzippi as well as the Mayor of Tweedsburg. It's as if Tweed's brain and khandu's brain had a knock-down drag-out fight over who was going to get to lay claim to all the empty space within Tweed's head and they both lost.

That, JennyO, is because Mother is in control. Mother doesn't like order. Mother doesn't like things to be nice and neat. Mother doesn't like anal retention. Mother does, however, love the Second Law of Thermodynamics and, of course, entropy. In fact, Mother has the Second Law of MOAB: BS will always flow from states of higher to lesser density. Expressed mathematically, this would be

S1>S2=S3=S1+S2/2

or, in words If BS state 1 is greater than BS state 2, then BS State 3 results, which is equal to the total of S1 plus S2 divided by 2. Since, by definition, you can't in this Universe have more than a state of greater BS and a state of lesser BS, no more than two states are possible or even desirable (some would argue that one state is too many).

Amos's recent work in multi-dimensional BS entropy, however, is quite exciting (if you're into that sort of thing), showing as it does the probability that alternate states of greater and lesser BS can and most likely do exist, but in places where we can't see them. Sort of like a transdimensional game of hide-and-seek, only you can't see either the other players or where they are hiding. I'm certain that he'd be as happy as a pig in mudtime to post his work here if you were to ask him to do so. Be sure to ask him sweetly and nicely, because he's usually a surly old burp. You won't understand it -- heck, not even Amos understands it, having done most of it when he was drunk -- but it certainly is interesting to see all them mathematical squiggles and stuff.

Wow! JennyO has created a message that exhibits both positive and negative entropy! It starts out in a state of order (the words all lined up in a nice diagonal) but it inevitably winds its way toward disorder. That's entropy in a nutshell. But, then, if you watch the screen long enough it eventually rebuilds itself into an ordered state. That's negative entropy.

Now, as we all know, negative entropy is a contradiction and cannot exist. Order can only be imposed upon a system by using energy borrowed from someplace else and the amount of disorder created by that borrowing is always greater than the amount of order imposed. The old "There's no such thing as a free lunch." bit.

But JennyO's message first craetes disorder from order and then turns around and creates order from disorder with no borrowing of energy from someplace else. She has reversed entropy! And it happened right here on the Mother of All BS Threads!